The Dilemma of Charlotte Farrow by Susan Martins Miller

said, divesting himself of the last salad.
    â€œPlease.”
    â€œAs you are aware, on Miss Lucy’s recommendation, we have engaged a new maid to train for the kitchen. The girl is from the orphanage herself. Since she has not yet begun a full range of duties, the household would experience theleast unsettledness if we simply reassign her to the child’s care for the time being. She can always take up her kitchen training at a later date.”
    Charlotte’s heart fell, though she hardly expected anything else. Sarah would be caring for her son. At least he was not being sent away in the morning, or even in the next few weeks.
    â€œWe shall have to open the nursery and nanny’s quarters,” Flora said. “Charlotte can oversee that endeavor in the morning. I believe she’s familiar with the resources available in the attic to outfit the rooms. The girl can look after him there. There may even be an old nursemaid’s uniform.”
    â€œThen it’s settled.” Samuel dabbed his beard with his napkin. “I hope now we can return to a peaceful meal.”
    Mr. Penard bowed slightly. “I deeply regret the intrusion and offer my sincerest apologies. You will be pleased to know that Mrs. Fletcher has baked a red velvet cake for your homecoming.”
    â€œLucy’s favorite.” Violet nodded in pleasure. “We shall have to enjoy it on her behalf.”
    Charlotte eased out her breath, hoping for some relief of the pressure in her chest as she gripped the edge of the sink. She had not felt this ill in many months, but in between the waves assaulting her stomach came the realization that she had received the gift of time.
    A hand on her shoulder made her gasp.
    â€œCharlotte,” Archie Shepard said, “are you all right?”

 6 
    S arah set the baby on the cloth on the kitchen floor and turned a couple of chairs on their sides around him.
    Mrs. Fletcher scowled. “What makes you think that’s going to make him stay put?”
    â€œI have to put him somewhere, and this is what we did before. Is breakfast ready yet?”
    â€œI do not plan my menus around the needs of an infant. We’re serving sausages, sweet rolls, and fruit.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have enough teeth for that,” Sarah said. “He should have oatmeal again, I suppose.”
    Mrs. Fletcher gestured toward the stove. “Help yourself.”
    â€œBut I haven’t learned to cook yet. You were supposed to teach me. That’s why they sent me here.” Sarah glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Charlotte?” Sarah asked. That stupid maid would not let him starve.
    â€œI’ve sent her to the cellar for the day’s vegetables.”
    â€œMaybe I’ll just mash another banana then, and stir in some milk. We do have fresh milk, don’t we?”
    Mrs. Fletcher sighed but did not answer.
    Sarah opened the icebox and removed a jar of milk. “We must instruct the milkman to increase the daily order. Babiesdrink a lot of milk, and this one will be here for a few weeks at least.”
    The cook spun and planted her fists on her hips. “You will not tell me how to manage my kitchen.”
    â€œI simply asked for milk for the baby.” Jar and bowl in hand, Sarah withdrew to the other end of the kitchen, a safe distance from the spatula Mrs. Fletcher wielded in one fist. “I suppose you were here in the days when there was a nursery. I do hope the furniture in the attic is suitable.”
    â€œIt was good enough for the Banning children,” Mrs. Fletcher muttered. “I’ve no doubt it will do for a temporary arrangement for a foundling.”
    â€œHe’ll need a proper high chair for feedings, and a carpet to play on. Of course, my bed will be in the room next to his—not in the servants’ quarters.”
    The baby clattered against his chair-cage. The chair he used to pull himself up slid under his